17/7/09

THE SACRIFICE The broken wings

One day in the late part of June, as the people left the city for the mountain to avoid the heat of summer, Iwent as usual to the temple to meet Selma, carrying with me a little book of Andalusian poems. As I reachedthe temple I sat there waiting for Selma, glancing at intervals at the pages of my book, reciting those verseswhich filled my heart with ecstasy and brought to my soul the memory of the kings, poets, and knights whobade farewell to Granada, and left, with tears in their eyes and sorrow in their hearts, their palaces, institutionsand hopes behind. In an hour I saw Selma walking in the midst of the gardens and I approaching the temple,leaning on her parasol as if she were carrying all the worries of the world upon her shoulders. As she enteredthe temple and sat by me, I noticed some sort of change in her eyes and I was anxious to inquire about it.Selma felt what was going on in my mind, and she put her hand on my head and said, "Come close to me,come my beloved, come and let me quench my thirst, for the hour of separation has come."I asked her, "Did your husband find out about our meeting her?" She responded, "My husband does not careabout me, neither does he know how I spend my time, for he is busy with those poor girls whom poverty hasdriven into the houses of ill fame; those girls who sell their bodies for bread, kneaded with blood and tears."I inquired, "What prevents you from coming to this temple and sitting by me reverently before God? Is yoursoul requesting our separation.?"She answered with tears in her eyes, "No, my beloved, my spirit did not ask for separation, for you are a partof me. My eyes never get tired of looking at you, for you are their light; but if destiny ruled that I should walkthe rough path of life loaded with shackles, would I be satisfied if your fate should be like mine?" Then sheadded, "I cannot say everything, because the tongue is mute with pain and cannot talk; the lips are sealed withmisery and cannot move; all I can say to you is that I am afraid you may fall in the same trap I fell in."

When I asked, "What do you mean, Selma, and of whom are you afraid?" She covered her face with her handsand said, "The Bishop has already found out that once a month I have been leaving the grave which he buriedme in."I inquired, "Did the Bishop find out about our meetings here?" She answered, "If he did, you would not seeme here sitting by you, but he is getting suspicious and he informed all his servants and guards to watch meclosely. I am feeling that the house I live in and the path I walk on are all eyes watching me, and fingerspointing at me, and ears listening to the whisper of my thoughts."She was silent for a while, and then she added, with tears pouring down her cheeks, "I am not afraid of theBishop, for wetness does not scare the drowned, but I am afraid you might fall into the trap and become hisprey; you are still young and free as the sunlight. I am not frightened of fate which has shot all its arrows inmy breast, but I am afraid the serpent might bite your feet and detain you from climbing the mountain peakwhere the future awaits you with its pleasure and glory."I said, "He who has not been bitten by the serpents of light and snapped at by the wolves of darkness willalways be deceived by the days and nights. But listen, Selma, listen carefully; is separation the only means ofavoiding people's evils and meanness? Has the path of love and freedom been closed and is nothing leftexcept submission to the will of the slaves of death?"She responded, "Nothing is left save separation and bidding each other farewell."With rebellious spirit I took her hand and said excitedly, "We have yielded to the people's will for a long time;since the time we met until this hour we have been led by the blind and have worshipped with them beforetheir idols. Since the time I met you we have been in the hands of the Bishop like two balls which he hasthrown around as he pleased. Are we going to submit to his will until death takes us away? Did God give usthe breath of life to place it under death's feet? Did He give us liberty to make it a shadow of slavery? He whoextinguishes his spirit's fire with his own hands is an infidel in the eyes of Heaven, for Heaven set the fire thatburns in our spirits. He who does not rebel against oppression is doing himself injustice. I love you, Selma,and you love me, too; and Love is a precious treasure, it is God's gift to sensitive and great spirits. Shall wethrow this treasure away and let the pigs scatter it and trample on it? This world is full of wonder and beauty.Why are we living in this narrow tunnel which the Bishop and his assistants have dug out for us? Life is fullof happiness and freedom; why don't we take this heavy yoke off our shoulders and break the chains tied toour feet, and walk freely toward peace? Get up and let us leave this small temple for God's great temple. Letus leave this country and all its slavery and ignorance for another country far away and unreached by thehands of the thieves. Let us go to the coast under the cover of night and catch a boat that will take us acrossthe oceans, where we can find a new life full of happiness and understanding. Do not hesitate, Selma for theseminutes are more precious to us than the crowns of kings and more sublime than the thrones of angels. Let usfollow the column of light that leads us from this arid desert into the green fields where flowers and aromaticplants grow."She shook her head and gazed at something invisible on the ceiling of the temple; a sorrowful smile appearedon her lips; then she said, "No, no my beloved. Heaven placed in my hand a cup, full of vinegar and gall; Iforced myself to drink it in order to know the full bitterness at the bottom until nothing was left save a fewdrops, which I shall drink patiently. I am not worthy of a new life of love and peace; I am not strong enoughfor life's pleasure and sweetness, because a bird with broken wings cannot fly in the spacious sky. The eyesthat are accustomed to the dim light of a candle are not strong enough to stare at the sun. Do not talk to me ofhappiness; its memory makes me suffer. Mention not peace to me; its shadow frightens me; but look at meand I will show you the holy torch which Heaven has lighted in the ashes of my heart −−you know that I loveyou as a mother loves her only child, and Love only taught me to protect you even from myself. It is Love,purified with fire, that stops me from following you to the farthest land. Love kills my desires so that you may

live freely and virtuously. Limited love asks for possession of the beloved, but the unlimited asks only foritself. Love that comes between the naiveté and awakening of youth satisfies itself with possessing, and growswith embraces. But Love which is born in the firmament's lap and has descended with the night's secrets is notcontended with anything but Eternity and immortality; it does not stand reverently before anything exceptdeity.When I knew that the Bishop wanted to stop me from leaving his nephew's house and to take my onlypleasure away from me, I stood before the window of my room and looked toward the sea, thinking of the vastcountries beyond it and the real freedom and personal independence which can be found there. I felt that I wasliving close to you, surrounded by the shadow of your spirit, submerged in the ocean of your affection. But allthese thoughts which illuminate a woman's heart and make her rebel against old customs and live in theshadow of freedom and justice, made me believe that I am weak and that our love is limited and feeble, unableto stand before the sun's face. I cried like a king whose kingdom and treasure have been usurped, butimmediately I saw your face through my tears and your eyes gazing at me and I remembered what you said tome once (Come, Selma, come and let us be strong towers before the tempest. Let us stand like brave soldiersbefore the enemy and face his weapons. If we are killed, we shall die as martyrs; and if we win, we shall liveas heroes. Braving obstacles and hardships is nobler than retreat to tranquillity.) These words, my beloved,you uttered when the wings of death were hovering around my father's bed; I remembered them yesterdaywhen the wings of despair were hovering above my head. I strengthened myself and felt, while in the darknessof my prison, some sort of precious freedom easing our difficulties and diminishing our sorrows. I found outthat our love was as deep as the ocean and as high as the stars and as spacious as the sky. I came here to seeyou, and in my weak spirit there is a new strength, and this strength is the ability to sacrifice a great thing inorder to obtain a greater one; it is the sacrifice of my happiness so that you may remain virtuous andhonourable in the eyes of the people and be far away from their treachery and persecution.In the past, when I came to this place I felt as if heavy chains were pulling down on me, but today I came herewith a new determination that laughs at the shackles and shortens the way. I used to come to this temple like ascared phantom, but today I came like a brave woman who feels the urgency of sacrifice and knows the valueof suffering, a woman who likes to protect the one she loves from the ignorant people and from her hungryspirit. I used to sit by you like a trembling shadow, but today I came here to show you my true self beforeIshtar and Christ.I am a tree, grown in the shade, and today I stretched my branches to tremble for a while in the daylight. Icame here to tell you good−bye, my beloved, and it is my hope that our farewell will be great and awful likeour love. Let our farewell be like fire that bends the gold and makes it more resplendent."Selma did not allow me to speak or protest, but she looked at me, her eyes glittering, her face retaining itsdignity, seeming like an angel worthy of silence and respect. Then she flung herself upon me, somethingwhich she had never done before, and put her smooth arms around me and printed a long, deep, fiery kiss onmy lips.As the sun went down, withdrawing its rays from those gardens and orchards, Selma moved to the middle ofthe temple and gazed along at its walls and corners as if she wanted to pour the light of her eyes on its picturesand symbols. Then she walked forward and reverently knelt before the picture of Christ and kissed His feet,and she whispered, "Oh, Christ, I have chosen Thy Cross and deserted Ishtar's world of pleasure andhappiness; I have worn the wreath of thorns and discarded the wreath of laurel and washed myself with bloodand tears instead of perfume and scent; I have drunk vinegar and gall from a cup which was meant for wineand nectar; accept me, my Lord, among Thy followers and lead me toward Galilee with those who havechosen Thee, contended with their sufferings and delighted with their sorrows."

When she rose and looked at me and said, "Now I shall return happily to my dark cave, where horrible ghostsreside, Do not sympathize with me, my beloved, and do not feel sorry for me, because the soul that sees theshadow of God once will never be frightened, thereafter, of the ghosts of devils. And the eye that looks onheaven once will not be closed by the pains of the world."Uttering these words, Selma left the place of worship; and I remained there lost in a deep sea of thoughts,absorbed in the world of revelation where God sits on the throne and the angels write down the acts of humanbeings, and the souls recite the tragedy of life, and the brides of Heaven sing the hymns of love, sorrow andimmortality.Night had already come when I awakened from my swoon and found myself bewildered in the midst of thegardens, repeating the echo of every word uttered by Selma and remembering her silence, ,her actions, hermovements, her expression and the touch of her hands, until I realized the meaning of farewell and the pain oflonesomeness. I was depressed and heart−broken. It was my first discovery of the fact that men, even if theyare born free, will remain slaves of strict laws enacted by their forefathers; and that the firmament, which weimagine as unchanging, is the yielding of today to the will of tomorrow and submission of yesterday to thewill of today −−Many a time, since the night, I have thought of the spiritual law which made Selma preferdeath to life, and many a time I have made a comparison between nobility of sacrifice and happiness ofrebellion to find out which one is nobler and more beautiful; but until now I have distilled only one truth outof the whole matter, and this truth is sincerity, which makes all our deeds beautiful and honourable. And thissincerity was in Selma Karamy.